


Dusty Secrets

by ohdrey89



Series: Deductive Deviations [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Awkward Sexual Situations, Confused Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Ejaculate, Hair-pulling, If You Wanna Call It That, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, POV Inanimate Object, Penises, Post-Coital, Sherlock Holmes on the Asexuality Spectrum, Silver Fox Lestrade, mid-scene porn, neck biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdrey89/pseuds/ohdrey89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apartments of 221B Baker Street hold many secrets. But that doesn't mean it will stay that way. </p>
<p>John Watson thinks Greg Lestrade is actually great in chair. Especially when that chair is Sherlock's. They just wish he hadn't found out about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusty Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShezzasCompanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/gifts).



> Oh geez, you know this whole "I promise I'm still working on things" thing would be a lot more believable if I actually kept my word. I reblogged another prompt meme on my [tumblr](http://ohdrey89.tumblr.com/post/145244069358/dialogue-prompts). Feel free to follow me and prompt me as well! 
> 
> Another one for ShezzasCompanion because she loves making me do this and it's awesome! What we have here is Johnstrade with the prompt "Well this is awkward." I don't know why it's filthy again, my mind just works like that. Unfortunately for Sherlock, in this case.
> 
> Disclaimer: We didn't create it, we're not making money from it. But that's not going to stop the ideas from coming, so here we all are anyway. We might as well live.

———

From inside 221b, there was quiet. A hush over the place, replete with calm of a home in wait for a return to the rush of activity. The apartments could breathe easy for a bit while lying in wait for more. It was a quiet that settled into the air, the dust motes curling in and out of the light upon the stairs with muted grace. The inner door to Mrs. Hudson’s cheery apartments was left ajar, not home then.

From up the worn stairs, shuffling could be heard. A grunt. A moan. From the top of the stairs the door to the upper apartments was left open at an odd angle, suggesting it was slammed against the wall in a hurried rush. Kicked open, fallen against. The door could tell you it had experienced it all. But only the disturbed dust floating before the windows in the sitting room knew for sure. Dust is eloquent, and holds many secrets. A trail of clothes dotted a path to the more modern of the two chairs within the room. Shoes, a pair of trousers, a pair of jeans. While the other homier chair watches from across the room in silent repose. The floorboards of 221b creaked as the two men rocked against each other, pressing into the leather cushions.

“Ah… Fuck—” John bit out shuddering, leaning into the harsh bites the man under him left on his neck. His throat and chest exposed from underneath the button down shirt he wore that day, hastily unbuttoned. A couple still clinging to their holes, preventing his lover from tasting all of his skin. One sleeve yawned open, the other pulled tight in the shuffled haste to get to this point. Hard grinds led to a harsh whine being ripped from his throat as his cock rubbed against the other. Wet, glistening, glorious, and looked marvelous when within the grip of the other man’s broad tan hand. The tone of his skin somehow made what they did that much more obscene. He wove his fingers into the man’s silver hair and pulled just because he loved feeling the growl rumbled into his skin in reply. The sound echoed through his chest, down into his core where the pleasure was bubbling, building to the crackling rush of endorphines they were both searching for.

“Yeah, come on, baby.” Greg’s voice grumbled out with the shark like grin as he flexed up into the grip he had on their cocks. This was going to be good orgasm, as he felt the warmth spread and build. John whined before falling against Greg’s shoulder, his sandy hair tickling Greg’s ear, chills adding to the feelings that mounted and piled on top of each other. Greg wasn’t going to come yet, not until John came first. “Be a good boy. I want to see you come for me.” He growled on a whisper.

“Ah— Greg!” John gasped, pulling back to look at their cocks gliding against each other with each thrust.

“Go on… I got you, let go.” Greg encouraged. Meeting John’s eyes, letting out a groan at the clouded haze of lust in the doctor’s deep blue eyes. He felt it building up from John’s cock as he let out a stuttering groan and spilled all over Greg’s cock and hand. With a thumb swipe over his own cock, feeling the pulsing of John’s as he stroked him through his orgasm, Greg let out a long groan as he joined John pulsing, throbbing, cum coming out of him in a rush into his own lap.

They laid there, in the quiet hush of the room, panting against each other. The notorious black door was opened and closed in a rush. The thud of it echoing up the stairs and popping the bubble of the privacy both men thought they had. Before they could even think about moving, John’s whirlwind of a flatmate stormed into the kitchen.

“JOHN!” He called barely looking up to see John in the sitting room. Only noting in his narrow focus that John was to be found there. “John! Good! You’re here. I think I’ve solved the case, I just need to review the contents of the victim’s personal effects. I need you to go talk to Lestrade and get them from him. You should go alone; he seems to be more biddable when talking to you.” Sherlock rattled off coming to sit before his microscope where the vegetation sample laid in the slide frame so that he could confirm his theories.

“I’m not going down to NSY!” John protested, covering Greg’s mouth before he could speak.

“Why not?!” Sherlock demanded looking to John to register the state in which he found his blogger for the first time. “Why are you without your pants— or trousers for that matter?” He questioned standing before the barrier between the kitchen and sitting room.

“I’m not going down to NSY because Greg is already here.” John smirked leaning at an angle to expose the equally half-naked detective inspector on who’s lap he sat. It didn’t take Sherlock more than a second to notice just what went on in this room in his absence. No deductions necessary. Greg looked to the consulting detective with a proud smirk.

“Wh- why in god’s name are you two doing that of all things, and in my chair?!” Sherlock agonized, his face taking on an expression somewhere between disgust and agony. “That’s where I think!” He protested.

John shrugged, with an easy smile. “It’s roomier, better for making out.” He looked down to Lestrade as they both gave each other very self-satisfied smiles. “Well a bit more than making out.” John snickered, looking back to his flatmate for his toothy reply. Sherlock merely blinked, clearly the idea of his sacred chair being violated was too much as he blinked his way into his bedroom.

“Well this is awkward.” Greg bit his lip looking sympathetically to John now having to deal with an irate Sherlock. Him finding out about their assignations wasn’t exactly his plan when starting this with John. It had been so long since his divorce and John was just so… delectable.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s better he finds out now.” John snickered as he looked down to wear their mingled come was getting cold in Greg’s lap. He pulled away regrettably from Lestrade’s lap and walked to the loo to retrieve a flannel, his very appealing ass in Greg’s eye line. The inspector tilted his head to watch its retreat, silver hair shimmering in the sunlight. He caught the warm flannel being tossed in his direction, breaking his gaze. He murmured his thanks as he wiped himself down.

“And another thing!” Sherlock stomped out from his room as Greg was in mid swipe. “If there is one drop of ejaculate on that chair, Lestrade is paying for it to be reupholstered.” Sherlock shouted with umbrage as he eyed them both. Carefully not taking note of their state of undress as John was shrugging his pants back on.

“Why would I have to?!” Greg grumbled.

“It’s not a great leap, you’re clearly the dominant one of the two. If anyone had the idea to do that in my chair it most certainly would be you!” Sherlock explained his deduction pointedly with a sneer before retreating back to his room, trying not to pay any heed to the chuckles and giggles that echoed from the sitting room.

———

**Author's Note:**

> Hehehe that ending makes me laugh. I hoped you liked this and please know I'm keeping up with all of my other work, I'm just trying to finish stuff for the outside world before I descend back into my world here. 
> 
> Things for a friend that I should have finished months ago. I'm terrible at this whole work thing really. But I hope you like this!! I do so love being prompted by these ideas. My mind always runs amok with them anyway.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are our currency of love, spread the wealth around.


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